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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26600692">the tip of cape horn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomBowline/pseuds/TomBowline'>TomBowline</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>saltwater [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Terror (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, Edward Little's Nipple Piercings, Facials, M/M, Marking, POV Sgt Solomon Tozer, Piss without Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scent Kink, Sweat, Watersports</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:41:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26600692</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomBowline/pseuds/TomBowline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The first time had been back when they’d just started living together.</i><br/> <br/>Sol has to piss, Ned wants a tumble, events progress from there.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lt Edward Little/Sgt Solomon Tozer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>saltwater [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935106</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the tip of cape horn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>thank you so much to everyone who left such wonderful comments on the last fic!!! i got kind of obsessed with the little concept i spun about their first time, so here’s some more on the same theme.</p><p>again, mind the tags; this one is a little more piss-focused than the last one.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sol Tozer had to piss.</p><p>He was back late from rugby training because the roads were a fucking nightmare in the evenings, he’d drank about enough water at training to sink a small barge because it was fucking hot for May and he‘d been sweating buckets all afternoon, he’d gotten held up trying to remember the key code to the new building, and now he really had to piss. </p><p>He jogged up the rest of the stairs two at a time - trying his best to ignore the jolting burst of need that shot through him with every step - and fumbled hurriedly through the door to the flat, sidestepping a shin-height stack of cardboard boxes with rote expertise. Nothing could get between him and the bathroom.</p><p>Except.</p><p>Edward had been slouched at his laptop on the sofa, but he looked up when Sol came crashing in. The look on his face told Sol what was coming - surprise, then a muted and intent delight as he took in Sol, soaked in sweat and chest still heaving from his three-flight climb. By the time Sol got to their cramped little kitchen to drop his keys in the dish and his bag in the corner (shifting from one foot to the other, anticipating relief already), Edward was across the room and pressing him against the counter. Feeling up under his shirt. Nuzzling at the space behind his ear. Dipping down to lick the sweat from his neck.</p><p><em> Okay</em>.</p><p>It wasn’t truly a surprise, when Sol thought about it. It was a pattern he’d established - he’d noticed Edward liked him fresh from the pitch, so he’d started coming over after training more often, timing his visits to Edward’s place with practice days. In Edward’s mind, there must have been a clear, well-trodden line from Sol in his striped shirt and rugby shorts to sex. And on any other day, Sol would have gone along. But they were living together now, and even leaving...this particular situation...out of the equation, Edward would have to get used to the fact that Sol wouldn’t be raring to go every time he got home from training. He would have to set a firm boundary.</p><p>Edward fixed his mouth to the juncture of Sol’s neck and shoulder and started sucking at the exact moment one of his hands slipped up the high-cut leg of Sol’s shorts to palm at his arse, and all Sol’s thoughts of firm boundaries began to jellify.</p><p>“C’n I suck you off?” Edward’s mouth was at his ear now, delivering little nips to punctuate his question. Shit. </p><p>Maybe he could wait until afterwards. Wait to piss, wait to explain. If he could get hard quick enough it wouldn’t be an issue, he reasoned. And he could set boundaries for their shared life later - no reason to reject Edward now, not when he was doing such sweet things with his lips and his tongue and his hands. Sol could wait.</p><p>“Yeah,” he groaned. “Yeah, please.”</p><p>Edward dropped to his knees with an abruptness that no longer surprised Sol. Got right down to it when he knew what he wanted, did Edward Little. At this moment it seemed what he wanted was to press his face into the crotch of Sol’s shorts and take an obscenely deep breath, huffing sweat and grass and Sol. His exhale warmed the damp cotton of Sol’s briefs through the fabric in a way that was distracting, but not quite enough. “Ned,” he growled. “Come on.”</p><p>Edward complied, hooking his fingers into Sol’s waistband and pulling down shorts and briefs in one. He groaned to feel how soaked the briefs were: “How much’d you sweat out there, Sol?”</p><p>“It’s fucking hot,” Sol groused, knowing in his head how very much his sweating was <em> not </em> a problem for Edward, but still feeling a defensiveness borne of years switching antiperspirants every other month. “You’d sweat too.”</p><p>“Hmm.” Edward let Sol’s underwear drop to the floor and leaned in to nose in the crease between his thigh and bush. “Better when you do it,” he murmured, words slightly muffled by the way he pressed his face into Sol’s damp inner thigh. He left a trail of little nips from thigh to sack, leaving Sol’s cock by for a moment to suck at his balls before taking him in hand and licking over his head. Sol’s hips twitched. <em> Fuck</em>. Edward loved to use his mouth, and he was damn good at it.</p><p>But.</p><p>He wasn’t getting hard. All that was happening as Edward lavished attention on his prick was this: his overfull bladder, aggressively reasserting itself at the worst possible moment and making it impossible for him to let the sensation take him. Every burst of arousal had him holding back, clamping down on the feeling to avoid letting go. He groaned, frustration that Edward took as pleasure - he was answered with a whine that sent vibrations up his cock and (it seemed) directly into his bladder. Shit. He really couldn’t wait.</p><p>“Ned,” he gasped. “Wait. Hang on.” He got a hand on Edward’s forehead, pushed gently back. Edward pulled off his prick, his mortifyingly soft prick, and looked up at him inquiringly. </p><p>He couldn’t look him in the eye. He turned his head to regard the cooktop as he gritted out, “Sorry. I can’t, I have to piss.” Silence. A small hitch as Edward took in a breath. “I drank a lot at training, I just...sorry.”</p><p>He didn’t look back at Edward quickly enough to see the beginning of the expression he wore when he returned his gaze. Considering. Almost searching.</p><p>“Okay,” Edward replied after a long moment. “No problem.” Then, in a rushed voice, hands holding fast on Sol’s hips, before Sol could move away and attempt a dignified walk to the loo, “Only.”</p><p>Sol gazed at him, beginning to lose patience. “Only?”</p><p>Now it was Edward’s turn to avert his gaze. His eyes flicked around the linoleum floor and he said very, very quietly, “I don’t mind.”</p><p>Sol’s mind was running a little slowly. “You don’t...?”</p><p>“I’d like it.” Edward leveled his eyes firmly at Sol now, almost challenging him to make fun. Sol wouldn’t. “If you took care of it here. On me. I’d like that.”</p><p>This brought Sol up short. It wasn’t something he could say he’d had experience with, but then, that was true for so much he’d done with Edward, sexual and otherwise. The worst that could happen is he wouldn’t like it, and they wouldn’t do it again. He really liked Edward, he wanted him to have what he wanted. And if he waited much longer he wouldn’t have a choice. He wanted this to be a choice. He wanted it to be an action taken.</p><p>“Okay,” he said on a rush of air, “okay. Yeah.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Edward gave him a rare smile - not wide nor gaudy, but with something lit up in his eyes that Sol was beginning to recognize as joy. He wanted to see it again and again.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>As Sol fumbled with his prick, trying to get some kind of stance (what was the proper stance for pissing what was sure to be litres onto your boyfriend in the kitchen of your new shared apartment?), Edward dropped his mouth open, slack, and stared up at Sol. It was a perfect mirror of the expression Edward always got just before Sol would start to fuck his face, and it was this hot little shock of recognition that jolted Sol into letting go.</p><p>It really was a lot, Sol could tell as soon as the fizzing heat of relief started to overtake him. The first spurt hit Edward’s cheek and dripped down into his scruffy beard, then fizzled. As the next jet, stronger and steadier, found Edward’s open mouth, Sol heard him make a sound that completely defied categorization - somewhere between a gurgle and a growl and a whine. Fucking hot, is what it was. Sol wasn’t sure where exactly Edward wanted it, so he tried to vary it as much as he could - though it was hard to think logistically through how obscenely good it felt. When it started to pour from Edward’s mouth, he shifted his stream down and pissed over his neck, his shirt front, the little tuft of hair visible at his neckline. The next thing he heard from Edward was a wet gulp, the implications of which made Sol faintly dizzy; from distaste or arousal, he couldn’t tell. The tug in his gut when he sent his stream back upwards and saw Edward’s lashes fan out prettily as he closed his eyes and turned his head to lap at Sol’s piss was somewhat less ambiguous. </p><p>It lasted an absurdly long time, and when Sol was done, he felt a little like he’d just come for a minute straight. Even if he had just come, no doubt seeing Edward sitting there in front of him would have made his refractory period vanish into thin air. He was soaked - <em> soaked </em> - in Sol’s piss. It was dizzying on its own, that proof of how much he’d held, the reminder of how good it had felt to find relief. His old grey-blue t-shirt was clinging to his chest, which was plainly visible through the wet fabric - all on display, from the lovely thick hair that thatched over his tits to his hard little nipples with their fetching silver barbells to the soft furred plane of his belly. Above, his throat still worked, his beard dripped onto the floor. His mouth was wet and shining. Below, he had his jeans open to rub at his prick with the heel of one damp hand. Christ. </p><p>As Sol’s eyes took in the scene before him, his prick was twitching to life in his slack distracted grip. He started to pull himself off absently, still captivated by the perfect filthy picture Edward made like this. “Ned,” he sighed. “Fuck. Fuck.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Edward groaned, lashes fluttering and brow knitting as he ground his hand down into his cock. He licked his lips. “Yeah. Sol, yeah. Please.”</p><p>It was some electric combination of this word and the gust of warm air over his prick as Edward sighed it out that sent Sol’s orgasm rushing up to meet him without warning. He watched in stupefied admiration as his seed spurted to make Edward’s face messier still, heard with amazement the noises Edward was making for his trouble - little hitching whines, and murmurs of “thank you, thank you, thank you”. <em> Fuck. </em></p><p>Sol was sinking to his knees and into Edward’s space, then, partly from wobbly exhaustion and partly from an animal need to have a physical presence in Edward’s pleasure, a hand on his cock as he came. He thrust his tongue into Edward’s mouth and sucked the taste of salt and bitterness from his lips (all Sol, all the taste of Sol, all what Sol had given him) as he plunged one hand below Edward’s waistband and used the other to tug on one of his nipple piercings. One, two, three frantic pulls at Edward’s flushed leaking prick and Sol felt him coming with a hot slick surge and a full-body shudder. His mouth went slack against Sol’s and he pressed his forehead hard to his, noses half-crushed together. <em> Thank you, </em>he whispered again, near-silently, into Sol’s open panting mouth.</p><p>They couldn’t stay down for long — kitchen floor, wet clothes, and all, plus Sol was getting hungry. Before they clambered up to get presentable, though, Sol slid his arms up to hold all of Edward’s sopping form tightly to himself and pressed his mouth to his ear. “You know we’re definitely gonna do this again, yeah?”</p><p>Edward smiled again - rare, beautiful, quietly radiant - and turned to give Sol another kiss.</p>
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